Chapter One: Her nightmare

 _Forty-eight hours later_

Rose’s POV

The intense throbbing ache of a migraine was the first thing my brain registered as I slowly roused from my unconscious state. The severe ache that continuously and gradually pounded against the left side of my head caused me to wince, my eyes squeezing shut and I let out a shaky breath through my slightly parted lips. For a moment, I was lost to my environment, with just the distress taking over my thoughts until I found the strength to open my eyes, ignoring the headache that was threatening to split my head apart.

The soft golden-yellow glow of the lamp hanging on the opposite wall was the first thing my eyes landed on as its dim glow accentuated the dark red walls of the room. For a moment, I was lost, staring at the wall and the glow of the lamp while wondering where I was. 

The warmth surrounding me, and the subtle oaky smell of leather filled my nostrils, spreading that soft relaxing warmth through my entire being. I drew in a deep breath to inhale more of the comforting fragrance but at that moment, I attempted to stretch my aching limbs but to my dismay, I realized I was tied up. My legs were bound together and so were my hands and the ropes must have been attached to a very strong post because all of my attempts to move were to no avail. The more I moved, the more my back rubbed against the feathery surface I was laying on, causing goosebumps to break out on my skin, and at the same time, the realization that I was naked, dawned on me.

My eyes darted to my body to see I was stark naked with no single piece of clothing hiding my lady parts. My heart began palpitating as I racked my brain for a possible answer. Suddenly, the comfort I felt a few minutes ago was gone, replaced by anxiety and panic. But I didn't need to think too deeply as it struck me.

I was caught.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, bile rising in my throat and tears filling my eyes as another cold shiver wracked my exposed body but this time, not from the light scratch of the feathery surface but from the fear of the fate that would befall me as soon as my captor arrives.

I had no doubt it’d be death but not an instant one. No, Don Torelli wasn’t such a merciful man, as I’ve heard. He didn't do quick deaths. It was torture. The kind that would make you wish he’d just put a bullet to your head or blow out your brain matters to end your suffering. I’ve never seen the man but he's the most feared drug lord in the whole of America and I’ve heard of what a nightmare he could be. He's known to raise hell on anyone that crosses his path and I didn't just do that but I’ve taken the one thing that matters the most to him. I’ve successfully cut short his reign and I know I’ll pay dearly for it.

A lone tear slid down the side of my left eye, giving way to a torrent of tears as the events of the night that led me to this abrupt end swarmed my head. If only I hadn’t listened to Sam, if only I’d left the club when I wanted to, I’d never have run into him, and I’d have been free.

A night of fun was all I wanted but I’ve successfully thrown my entire life down the drain.

I was still lost in my pain and anguish when the door suddenly opened and my eyes caught a glimpse of white light just before a tall dark shadow blocked the view, closing the door behind him as he stepped further into the room. My heart jerked painfully in my chest as it resumed pounding, this time faster than before. I knew it was only a matter of time before my time would be over.

I drew in a shaky breath and struggled to breathe through my clogged nostrils as I summoned the courage to steal a glance at my nightmare, the man whom I’d unknowingly signed my life to.

Many have said he was a very handsome man, with a fierce appearance but the man standing before me didn't look anything like I expected. While I expected a fine older man with fierce facial features and graying hair, the man before me had soft refined features, with jet black hair slicked back away from his handsome face and soft honey-brown eyes that stared at me as though they could see well into my soul. He looked more around his early thirties than the late sixties I was expecting.

Surely, this couldn’t be Don Torelli, could it?

I couldn’t discern but considering no one ever spoke of his age, and considering the rumors that he married at an early age, and is the youngest of seven brothers, who died, leaving him to be the sole heir of the Torelli empire, then he fell into the perfect description of the man after my life.

I gulped, another shiver wracking my body as the thought crashed into me that I was lying helpless in the home of my soon-to-be killer, and rather than begging for my life, I was debating his good looks.

“I see you’re awake,” the low rumble of his deep voice took me by surprise, instantly cutting through my thoughts and leaving me blank and susceptible to the anxiety eating me from the inside.

Without waiting for a response, he took slow steps towards me, rounding me to stand behind my head. Goosebumps broke out on my skin, my teeth clattering as I struggled to breathe. The fear of what was to come was threatening to choke the life out of me even before he begins his torture. More tears leaked from my eyes, and just like that I began sobbing, determined to beg for my life while silently praying he’d find a sliver of mercy in him.

“P-please, d-don’t kill me. It was an accident… I-I didn't know he was your son, please…” I muttered, sobbing profusely, not caring that he was standing over me, with a full view of my naked body exposed to his eyes. All I cared about at that moment was to stay alive.

“Please, spare my life. I’ll do whatever you want, please. I don’t want to die,” I continued babbling through my sobs. But he remained quiet yet I wouldn’t give up.

I was too young to die. My parents would have no idea of my death and I wouldn’t see them again. These thoughts alone broke my heart into a million pieces as I continued rambling, making endless promises all in hopes of staying alive. But suddenly, he placed one thick finger on my lips to shut me up.

“Shhhh…” his voice was low and somehow, soothing. His other hand cupped my cheek and traveled down to my chin, forcing me to look up into his darkened pupils. “I won’t kill you, pet. As long as you’re a good girl. I take good care of my women,”

I stared at him in utter shock, my teary eyes blinking in disbelief but it was real.

“If you promise to be my good girl, I’ll take good care of you,”

I nodded my head, still in a daze from his suddenly reassuring words and comforting look but it didn’t stop my heart from palpitating.

“Tell me you’ll be my little pet,” he demanded in that husky tone, sending me deep into the throes of confusion but in my haste to please him so as to stave off my impending doom, I nodded quickly without hesitation.

“Words, pet. Say it,”

“I… I’ll b-be your little pet,”

“Good girl,” he growled, taking his hands off me and stepping away.

As stunned as I was, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he was truly going to let my crime slide just like that but he beat me to it.

“I’ll set you free, but I’ll need you to sign a contract once I untie your arms,”

At the mention of the contract, my heart skipped, dropping to the pit of my stomach again. Was this a bad dream? 

I’d heard tales of girls signing off their lives to the Don and never getting out of it without death as the penalty. Was this it? Was he trying to lure me into a deeper form of punishment than the one I expected? With the constant fear of death hanging over my head?

A whimper escaped my lips, more tears filling my eyes. I shook my head in refusal but he frowned, his expression darkening.

“I-I don’t want to die, please,” I pleaded in a quivering voice but his palm came again to cup my cheek. This time, he was standing beside my head.

“Like I said before, I take care of my women,”

Without waiting for my response, he withdrew from me and worked the ropes binding my hands. Thereafter, he grabbed my sore arms and pulled me to a sitting position before proceeding to hand me the file containing the contract and a pen.

“Sign,”

“B-but…” I tried objecting, too terrified to follow through but his stern response and the look he gave me had me signing my life away.

“Good girl,” he petted my messy hair and took the file from me, while still petting my hair. “You’ll be a good little sex slave,”